Trouble with the Commodore
by SpindleFiber
Summary: Poor Captain Pellew gets orders from the admiralty with an important mission. But how will the ship run with a commodore who never seems the same two days in a row? Rating because of mild adult themes (really mild)
1. In which Pellew is late

El burro sabe mas que tu, I don't own, so please don't sue.  
  
Captain Sir Edward Pellew realized with a barely stifled groan that he was almost five minutes late for his summons to the Admiralty. He took pride in being a punctual man, which made his frustration all the greater. And he was sure Admiral Hood would make some comment calculated to shame him in front of the other captains. This, he could not bear. He leaned forward and rapped on the wall of the carriage.  
  
'yessir?' came the rather impudent sounding voice of his driver, a skinny lad of no more than fifteen  
  
'Hurry up, there! It'll cost you if I'm late, boy!' snapped Pellew, his anxiety making him cross. Then he immediately regretted it. A wealthy sea captain shouldn't begrudge a few pennies from a poor boy just because he hated Admiralty summons. With a sigh, he sank back into his seat.  
  
In lieu of anything to do, he reached inside his coat pocket and brought out the orders that had summoned him to the Admiralty. They were singularly odd. He was inclined to think that some incompetent clerk had confused his name with someone else's. Who ever heard of six senior captains serving in a fleet under a commodore? That was usually reserved for the most junior captains, who couldn't be trusted to command a ship on their own.  
  
With a jolt which almost sent Pellew flying, the carriage stopped in front of the Admiralty. Tossing some coins at the driver without looking at them, he sprinted away up the steps. If the boy's face was anything to go by, he had over tipped him to the point of absurdity. Stifling the oath when he almost tripped over his own sword in an effort not to be late, he all but fell into the room where the other captains were waiting to be briefed.  
  
'Woke up too late, did we, Mr. Pelloo?' inquired Captain Foster's drawling voice. 'Or perhaps you wanted to make a dramatic entrance for the commodore?' With a non-committal grunt, Pellew took his seat, and hoped to god he was not blushing with shame. That Foster! It was the most horrible luck imaginable that they had to sail together. With caution, he examined the other faces around the table. Besides Foster, he did not recognize any of them. The square jawed captain across from him smiled, held out his hand and said  
  
'Captain Winter, at your service. Are you the Pellew who was in The Chronicle just the other day?'  
  
'Was I?' stammered Pellew, caught off guard. 'I'm sorry, I didn't read it.'  
  
'Oh you were, your frigate, um....'  
  
'Indefatigable'  
  
'Yes! That's the one! She's famous for picking up prizes twice her force in guns. You are a very well known man, sir.'  
  
Pellew smiled. 'thank you.' He looked around slyly for what Foster thought of all this, and was viciously pleased when he saw the jealousy in Foster's eyes. Foster lived for publicity, something which Pellew abhorred.  
  
'So, does anyone know why in heaven's name we are all brought together in a fleet?' asked the captain at Foster's right.  
  
All five captains looked at him. A little embarrassed at all this attention, the man blinked a little, but continued  
  
'I mean, every one of us has several years' seniority! Why are we here?'  
  
There was murmured agreement from all the captains. They had probably wondered this also.  
  
'Well, we'll know when the commodore comes to brief us on this mission' said Pellew, 'and until then, I don't see the point in discussing it.'  
  
There was nodded agreement from everyone except The admiral would not look kindly on captains whose tongues wagged too freely. Pellew did not want to be caught discussing top secret Admiralty plans, even though there were few safer places than the Admiralty House. 


	2. In which Harker is introduced

Note: I still don't own the world, and thus this is still not mine, and thus you should not sue. For the time being, that is.  
  
Other note: This is completely ignoring Horry's promotion and Archie's death. 'Cause it's much more fun that way.  
  
Other other note: I will not delete reviews just because they are critical. Otherwise how will I ever improve? I also disapprove of everyone else who does so. *Ahemm*  
  
'Listen!' hissed the captain across from him. 'Here he comes.' Six voices fell silent, and six captains looked apprehensively at the door. There was a sound of a light tread on the staircase outside the door. Pellew realized with disgust that he was holding his breath. He let it out with a whoosh that was embarrassingly audible. He mentally chided himself for acting like such a fool.  
  
The door was pushed open, and Commodore Harker walked in. Having never seen him or heard of him before, (not that he was one to judge a man with nothing but rumors) Pellew took notice in every single aspect about the man. He should find out as soon as possible if this was going to be an easy cruise or not. Pellew had been in the navy long enough to dispense of the romantic notion that all officers were capable gentlemen. He had served under officers of many different temperaments, and knew a bad commander could mean a disastrous voyage. Mr. Hornblower's recent court martial was testament to that.  
  
The commodore was a middle aged man with immaculate but graying brown hair tied back with string. His eyes were gray and had a fierce look to them, which reminded Pellew unpleasantly of Foster. He would have been decently good looking if his features hadn't been ruined by a long white diagonal scar across his face. All in all he looked like someone who you wouldn't want to cross, at least before he had his breakfast.  
  
He glared around the room. With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Pellew realized that this was not going to be an easy cruise.  
  
'I, as you are most likely aware, am Commodore Harker. You are probably wondering why captains of your superiority and rank are being force- ah, serving under a commodore.' He scowled as if to say, 'and you'd better be wondering why'  
  
'Why are we here, sir?' asked Captain Foster. The look the commodore gave him was enough to curdle milk. Pellew inwardly smirked as Foster was visibly cowed. Then, he felt ashamed at acting like a child with a schoolboy grudge. Damn it all. Foster always brought out the very worst in him. God, how he hated the man.  
  
'Perhaps, captain, you'd better sit down and listen, and perhaps, with time, you might learn something, eh?' snapped the commodore.  
  
'My apologies, sir.' Foster must be even more cowed than Pellew thought, to apologize. Foster almost never apologized if he could help it. It caused him actual physical pain to do so. He felt a great wash of relief. If the commodore could keep Foster in check, then maybe they wouldn't be at each other's throats constantly, as had happened every other time they had the misfortune to serve together.  
  
'Well, gentlemen, you have been selected as the most capable and successful in the captains list. The admiral wants us to bring his latest brainchild into action,' said the commodore. Was he imagining things, or was there a sneer in the commodore's voice? Pellew, though he would never say so aloud, but he thought the admiral was an incompetent fool. Perhaps this Admiral Harker thought the same? Captain Pellew's opinion of the man rose greatly, and he sat back to listen to the admiral's plan. 


	3. In which a lot of words reveal little

Note: No, he is not secretly Napoleon! Hmmph!  
  
With a final scanning glance, The commodore pulled out a chair and perched on it, resting his chin on his hand. It was only then that Pellew noticed that he was rather on the smallish side for a man, not astonishingly so, but it was noticeable. He barely avoided smiling to himself. The man's rather hot temper and overbearing personality gave him the impression of being much bigger than he actually was. Harker suddenly lifted his head, and gave Pellew a sharp look.  
  
'Something funny, Mr...?' snapped the commodore. Gray eyes bored into brown ones. Pellew winced, and dropped his gaze. Perhaps he had not been entirely successful in hiding his smile.  
  
'Pellew, sir. And no, nothing is funny' This earned him a glare from the commodore, which then abruptly turned into a concentrated frown as Harker began speaking.  
  
'Gentlemen, I'm afraid I have been ordered not to tell you the particulars of this voyage,' said Harker, with the slightest trace of a sneer on the world 'ordered' 'However, since there is no point in you sailing off unprepared, I am permitted to give you some of the finer points.' He was not trying in the least to hide his disgust in the admiral. Pellew felt a surge of anger. He didn't like the admiral, but this was going too far. With an uncharacteristic lack of self control, he said sarcastically,  
  
'Oh and I suppose you are above being ordered about by a mere admiral!' The look of pure anger the commodore gave him cowed him immediately. He just knew he was blushing. Good god! The man had a nasty stare. But with a stubbornness he wouldn't have previously credited himself with, he forced himself to look the commodore in the eye. But what was this? Harker's glare softened, until it was a distinct but faint grudging respect.  
  
'A bit outspoken, are we not?' Harker mocked quietly. 'Still, if captains are allowed to criticize commodores, why can't a commodore express a certain dislike of the orders he has been given? Hmmm?'  
  
'Sorry sir, I spoke in haste' Was it just him, or did Harker look disappointed? Surely he didn't wish him to be insubordinate? Pellew was still puzzling over his commanding officer's strange ways when Harker continued,  
  
'We are to sail out to an undisclosed location, and bargain for allies. In the event we do not make a....favorable impression, each ship will carry a division of lobsters.' Pellew looked up in astonishment. It sounded odd for such an obviously genteel man to use a slang word.  
  
'Who are these allies, sir?' piped up the captain to the right of Foster. When Harker locked eyes with the poor captain, as seemed to be his habit, the poor man visibly wilted. He wasn't strong looking in the first place, what with his boyish round face and clear blue eyes, and now he looked limp and terrified. Pellew could feel some sympathy for the man, now that he had been submitted to the very same treatment.  
  
'That is one of the important details deemed confidential by the admiral, Mr..?'  
  
'Hill' was the meek reply.  
  
'Very well', said Harker, with total lack of expression. 'With the allies, we are to protect Ireland from Bonaparte.' Now that this very official speech was over, he lapsed back into his normal shrewd stare. 'And so, gentlemen, I suggest you start trying to find your crew, and supplying your ship. If by three weeks you are not ready to make sail.' -here he paused for effect- 'you will have to answer to me.' He rose, signaling the end of the meeting.  
  
Pellew's heart sank. He'd been so preoccupied with the orders he'd forgotten the necessity of finding his crew. The two foremost concerns of captains were where to find a crew, and how to stop it from deserting once he found it. Suppressing several choice curses he'd learned from his midshipman days, he stumped off to supervise the outfitting of the Indefatigable. 


	4. In which Hornblower hears troubling news

Note: I don't own. But you knew that, didn't you?  
  
Other note: I finally got off my derrière and posted this!  
  
Other other note: I made a little mistake in the last chapter. Harker is a commodore, not an admiral.  
  
Lieutenant Horatio Hornblower of his majesty's frigate Indefatigable snaked his way through the throng of men and the odd officer to a table that was cleaner than most. Plunking himself down on the cheap pinewood chair, he contemplated the menu with a skeptical eye. He briefly considered ordering a glass of wine to calm himself, but he rejected that idea. He had found early on that he disliked feeling drunk. He leaned back in his chair, surveying the room, wishing he had some way to kill time before reporting back to his ship. Other men looked forward to their shore leave, but as for Hornblower, he'd rather be on his ship, dreaming up plans to thwart the French  
  
His prayers were answered in the form of a scruffy looking lieutenant with a face like a horse, who, grinning, leaned over from his own table and said, "You from the Indefa- um, that ship what just came in?" Hornblower nodded  
  
"Yes, I am. What of it?"  
  
"I've heard talk that you've got ol' iceman Harker for a commanding officer," he chuckled. Hornblower frowned.  
  
"No, actually, I have the honor to sail under Captain Pellew." The lieutenant waved dismissive hand.  
  
"No, not your captain. You're all to be under the command of Commodore Harker, Commodore Iceman Harker, if he's not within earshot." He sat back, with a smug look.  
  
"Iceman?" asked Hornblower "Why iceman?" The lieutenant leaned forward conspiratorially.  
  
"'Cause the lads recon that ice runs in the man's veins, not human blood."  
  
"What?" spluttered Hornblower. "What do you mean?"  
  
"Oh, they say Harker is a real strategist and all, an' that he knows more about sailing than a judge knows about law, but as a man...well, lets just say he can be a bit cruel." The man paused, and took a swig from his brandy. "You know the battle he is famous for winning with brilliant strategy? Well, I have it from good sources that that brilliant strategy included sending his best captain on a mission he knew was suicide. In fact, I think they were friends. If anyone could get close enough to that man to be called a friend"  
  
Hornblower gasped. "Indeed? That's- that's horrible!" The man nodded in agreement.  
  
"I've had personal experience too. I've never seen him smile, much less laugh. He drives his men hard -but I'm being unfair. He drives himself the hardest of all. He seems not to need sleep sometimes.." He trailed off, considering. He shrugged, and drained his tankard, thumping it down hard enough to make the table rattle. "Well, best be off, or Captain Lynley will have my ass." He strolled off towards the door, in an almost swaggering manner. Just as he was about to open it, he swung around, and with an almost drunken grin he called, "Good luck with the Iceman, by the way" He sauntered out the door and was gone, leaving a very worried lieutenant behind him. 


	5. In which Pellew worries

Note: *sigh* I wish I owned Pellew..those brown eyes..  
  
Other Note: If you pause Duty a split second after the shell explodes the boat, Hornblower's eyes are glowing red, and he looks Satanic! Oooh, fun!  
  
Sir Edward Pellew massaged his temples and wished his headache would go away. After hours of sorting through papers, informing every relation of his that he was soon to leave, finding able seamen for his crew, and dealing with certain presumptuous officials, Pellew was ready to get dead drunk and forget the world for a while. The temptation was strong, but he reminded himself sternly that that was not how a gentleman behaves. Sighing deeply, he flopped down on a chair.  
  
No sooner did he do so, when there was a knock on his door. "Enter!" Pellew snapped, fatigue and worry getting the better of him. A dark eyed gangly lieutenant with wild curly hair flying in every direction nervously opened the door. Pellew smiled. Hornblower reminded him so strongly of himself when he was younger. The boy, (-no, young man, he corrected himself) was going to be wonderful officer, Pellew could just see it. Snapping himself out of his reverie, he said "Yes, what is it?" Hornblower stood to attention.  
  
"I've heard a rumor sir," he said  
  
"Yes?" prompted Pellew  
  
"Well, someone told me that we were going to be serving under a commodore" Hornblower blushed at using the word 'we' in referring to his superior officer. Pellew didn't even notice. He was horrified at what Hornblower was telling him.  
  
"What! You mean you've already heard of the plan?" He struggled to keep his voice at a normal tone. It would not do for a captain to show panic.  
  
"Um, y-yes sir" stuttered Hornblower. Pellew put his face in his hands and groaned.  
  
"Do you know what this means, Mr. Hornblower? It means there is a leak at the Admiralty! It means there is a big leak at the Admiralty! It means that to prevent the French from knowing our every move, there will be a huge witch hunt to find the spy!" Pellew was practically yelling by the end of this speech. At Hornblower's stricken face, he stopped. "It's not your fault man. Thank you for telling me. That will be all." Hornblower saluted and left the cabin. Pellew mentally cursed. Hornblower probably thought he was mad at him now. When would he learn not to reflect his stress in his voice?  
  
Pellew sighed, and swung on his coat. Grabbing his hat from the back of his chair, he stomped out of his cabin, nearly slamming into a marine in the process. With a mumbled apology, he climbed up the hatch to the deck. Seeing their captain dressed for going ashore, they bustled to get his boat crew organized, and a boat in the water. Pellew paced back and forth impatiently. He could only imagine what the French might figure out from the information leak. He winced, contemplating the damage that could be done. He urged the men to hurry.  
  
* * *  
  
With trepidation in his heart, Pellew ran up the steps, and for the second time, almost fell into the Admiralty. Admiral Hood and a captain Pellew remembered seeing at the briefing looked up. Hood looked disapproving. "What is it? Are you aware that you're disrupting a conversation?" He said, in his usual insolent tone. Pellew had to mentally remind himself that this was his superior officer, and yelling at him to hold his tongue would definitely not serve any useful purpose.  
  
"Sir, one of my officers has already heard of the plan." Pellew said quickly. Hood's squinty black eyes widened in shock  
  
"What! How could he." asked Hood, as pale as parchment.  
  
"I think there is an information leak somewhere in the Admiralty" said Pellew. He sighed. "I suppose we should make inquiries."  
  
"That wont be necessary," said the captain that had been talking to Hood. "I think I know how the leak happened." Both Pellew and Hood turned to look at him in surprise. He was a well put-together man; very tall and thin, but with a broad chest and a muscular build. He had long brownish blond hair, and green eyes the color of a snake's back.  
  
"Oh, pardon my manners," said Admiral Hood "Captain Pellew, this is Captain Fowler. The tall man politely bowed, which Pellew returned. "He's one of the Captains who will be serving with you," the admiral continued. Pellew idly wondered if the admiral realized that this was painfully obvious. This Captain Fowler fellow certainly seemed to. He had an annoyed look on his face.  
  
"May I continue, sir?" Fowler asked. Hood waved his assent with one hand, while taking a sip of port with the other. Fowler cleared his throat.  
  
"I'm afraid Captain Hill is friends with Captain Lynley, whose tongue isn't at all guarded, if you catch my meaning," he paused, and seemed to consider his next words. "I fear that they tend to um.discuss their latest assignments."  
  
"This must stop!" bellowed Hood, his pale face flushing red with anger. Pellew silently nodded agreement.  
  
"I'll tell him, sir," volunteered Fowler  
  
"Very well, do so" returned Hood, in a tone that dismissed them both. Pellew and Fowler both turned around, and together walked out of the admiralty. 


End file.
